


Our Marching Band Story

by Kobekeithoaul



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 17:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kobekeithoaul/pseuds/Kobekeithoaul
Summary: A complication of Stories about people in the Madison Cemtral High school Marching Band, stories of self discovery and personal growth, as well as interpersonal conflicts, and the various ways that they are settled.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael struggles with awkwardness

“Bring it in!” Yelled Mr.Nelson across the marching field. All of the band kids  
audibly sighed in relief, knowing that this meant that band practice was over, and they were free to relax. Everyone gathered in a crowd around Mr.Nelson, waiting to hear his ending spiel. Michael and Chell, along with everyone else in drum-line, unbuckled and pulled of the huge drums strapped to their torsos, placing them on the grass field.  
Mr.Nelson proudly declared “Good rehearsal today. We were a bit slow in the beginning, but we got a lot done today! We have our first competition this Saturday at  
East Hamilton High, so make sure your mentally prepared for that’.  
A bunch of the more enthusiastic Band members cheered at the talk of  
Saturdays competition, including Gary In drum-line.  
“And at that, you are dismissed” said Mr.Nelson. As soon as he finished his  
sentence, the crowd of band members erupted into a storm of banter and friendliness, and divided into smaller groups of friends. Drum-line pulled back on their drums, and properly strapped them to their bodies.  
“Where do you wanna do after practice?” Chell said enthusiastically, walking beside Micheal.

Micheal thought for a moment, punctuating the silence with “hmm”. Gary heaved his bass drum upward and made his way between Micheal and Chell, as they  
all herded to the band room.  
“How about we go to McDonalds?” Asked Gary.  
Micheal shrugged and answered with “I mean, its whatever you guys want” Chell then declared “Alright then, McDonalds it is”.  
Chell turned towards the one other drum-line player, who was walking alone,  
but still smiling to himself, aloof to the people and motion around him. “Hey Ruben. Wanna go to Mickey D’s with us?” She said.  
“Huh?” Stuttered Ruben, as he was caught up in his own thoughts and barely paying attention. “Oh um” He murmured at the sudden realization of what was being  
said. “Sure I’ll come with you guys”. He immediately returned to his previous state. The drum-line awkwardly hobbled through the door being held open for them by a courteous flute player. They were hindered, not by the weight, but by the bulkiness of  
their drums.  
The drum line pulled their drums off and set them carefully on the band room  
floor. The rest of the percussion slowly made their way back in, with the rest of the band helping carry in their behemoth amount of equipment.  
When the entire band had settled into the band room, each and everyone of the band members was rushing to pack away their things, pulling apart their instruments, and throwing them in their cases. A sheer amount go conversation going on between  
people was making it rather noisy, not that any one person was being particularly loud.

Micheal sat down, right down on the band room floor, out of the way of everyone packing up, and Ruben sat down right beside him.  
Ruben pulled the hair tie out, that was holding his raven black hair in a messy pony tail, and let it come down over his shoulders.  
Micheal, looking in no direction in particular, with a hopeful intention in his voice said “So, good practice today, huh? Think we’re gonna win the competition this weekend?” quietly, yet Clearly, Ruben said “Mhm”, closing his eyes as he pulled his hair into  
a tight man bun.  
“Oh” said Micheal, fearing that he said something wrong, or asked a stupid,  
redundant question. His cheeks grew slightly red. He closed his eyes, retreating to the calm darkness behind his eyelids. He tilted his head back against the wall.  
Ruben Finished tying off his bun, he opens up his eyes and turns to Micheal. Which a rising intention his is voice, he asked “You Alright?”.  
Micheal responded quietly with “Oh yeah i’m fine”, keeping his head back, and eyes shut. “Just tired is all”.  
He himself knew that he was no more tired then usual. His heart sunk, bringing down the rest of himself down with it, like a like a star imploding into a blackhole.  
Micheal thought “What am I gonna say next? was is Ruben gonna say next? Is someone gonna come and sit beside us and initiate a different Conversation? Or do I have to finish what I starte-“  
“Same, my calves hurt like crazy” Said Ruben, interrupting Michaels self- deprecating inner monologue. “All that marching gives legs a weird ache”

Rubens Engagement in the conversation made Michael feel a little less awkward, like maybe he could actually talk to someone like another human being for  
once.  
Michael snorted, and jokingly responded “Yeah, like someone beat the back of  
your legs with a lead pipe”, hoping that the joke was well placed, and not uncalled for. Ruben spouted a quiet, yet lively and wholesome laugh. The Cachinnating lifted  
up Michaels sunken sprit, and filled him with warmth, and unrelenting joy. He was enjoying the light-hearted conversation, he enjoyed being part of it that is.  
Ruben responded with “Falls down a set of stairs, ya still gotta go to band rehearsal”, laughing as he finished.  
Micheal, laughed right along with him, not afraid of relaxing, even if just for this one moment.  
Chell approached the two boys, she said, rather light heartedly “Come on guys, put your drums up so we can go”  
After they fit their drums into their cases, they pulled them into the instrument room. They both came out, Ruben letting Micheal go first. Micheal said “So your moms  
cool with letting you go with us?”  
Sudden realization stuck Ruben. “Oh dang, I forgot to call her”. He put his few  
belonging into a draw string bag with one hand, and poked at the screen of his Samsung with the other. The nuzzled the phone between his ear, and his shoulder, and went to use bot hands to pull his book bag onto himself.  
The phones answer was loud, and definitely not in English. Not even close. Ruben Responded in what was possibly Japanese, or maybe Korean. Micheal of

course knew that it was, in fact, Korean. Because there wasn’t a soul in marching band who didn’t know about the tall guy who was half Korean, and spoke an eastern language fluently.  
But Michael knew lots of other things about Ruben, things much more profound then ethnicity, and language. He knew all sorts of things about everyone in drum-line.  
Because he was there. He was always there with them, hanging out, and being their friend.  
As Ruben walked beside Chell, and Gary, towards the loud and thundering band room door, whose noise signified everyone leaving as different times, Micheal paused  
for a moment. He Looked back one last time at the empty band room. He thought to himself, that no matter all of his falterings, and awkward remarks, he was gonna have fun tonight, cause he knew that they didn’t mind him being around. He should know, its only been like 5 years they’ve been friends.  
Gary turned back towards Micheal, he said “aren’t you coming?” Micheal smiled contently to himself. Everything was gonna be okay.


	2. Edgar's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edgar stuggles with himself. He knows that when his friends look at him, they don't know who he really is.

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End file.
